


True, that he’s no Prince Charming…

by Gee_Writes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 01:17:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10709097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gee_Writes/pseuds/Gee_Writes
Summary: A horrific growl sends shivers down his spine, freezing him in place as the shadows of the dungeon move in terrifying ways.The hulking profile of a beast, form hidden from the low candle light as it moves to stand at full height.  Yuuri can't seem to draw a breath.[The Yuri on Ice!!! Beauty and the Beast AU no one asked for.]





	1. Prologue

His Highness Prince Viktor Nikiforov was known throughout the land as both handsome and commanding - ruling his lands after his father's demise with a cold and aloof demeanor; a sharp change occurring within the prince at the death of his beloved father.  Heart hardening with the demands of court and the lands.

The young prince’s only joys were grand banquets, filled with the pride of the Nikiforov rule.  Parties at the palace left the grand halls and ballrooms a glittering gold of gilt and champagne against the harsh winters of the season.  Food and dance drawing people from far and wide, despite the falling reputation of the prince himself.

It was one such party, filled with foreign guests and diplomats that a beggar woman broke through from the grand entrace and fell to the prince, beseeching the crown for mercy and sanctuary from the cold.  The flowing notes of the orchestra as it continued to play, party-goers stopped to watch the scene befalling their host.  Threadbare cloak sodden with snow and barefoot, the thin woman drops to her knees as a gnarled hand moves to clutch at the hem of Viktor’s clothes.

Icy blue eyes evaluate the woman at his feet; shivering in cold and hand still outstretched to him.  With a sneer of disgust at being interrupted he flicks his gaze to the royal guards instead, prompting them to drag the woman back out to the cold again.  There are murmurs both pleased and disgusted passing through the crowds of guests in response, but none move to stop them.

Before any of the guards reach the frail, crumpled woman though, she stands in a sad but resolute way - her stature changes with a charged power.  All the doors fly open; slamming hard as winter winds bluster into the room and envelop both guests and Prince Nikiforov himself.  Snowy gusts fill the once warm and welcoming ballroom, and the beggar woman sheds her outer enchantments as the terrifying realisation hits that rather than a poor peasant from the surroundings, the woman is instead the Baba Yaga - terrifying and powerful.  The most powerful witch within the forest.

The Nikiforov Castle is ensnared in eternal winter, hidden from the world as the cursed prince and his guests are forgotten from the outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> A short but sweet prologue to what should be a fairly fast-updating fairy tale story featuring our favourite skaters.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you'll join me in this journey.
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/WritingGee)!


	2. Look there he goes, that boy is strange, no question

Yuuri was considered odd in his town of Hasetsu. The only son of the innkeepers, he never joined the other boys for hunting season or to visit the pretty girls of neighbouring towns, but instead stayed preoccupied with his dancing and reserved nature.

Minako Okukawa had taken him under her instruction by the age of 6, once she had found him peering into the studio, watching her young girls practice. He had been shy and afraid once first caught, but soon came to love joining her for lessons throughout the day. Now he was known to disappear into the dance studio for hours at a time - joining the older woman once his duties around the inn had been fulfilled; loyal pet dog trotting right at his heels. People gossiped, and questioned why the Katsuki’s had allowed such a thing for their son, but ultimately left Yuuri to his own devices. He was quiet and unusual, but none seemed to truly wish him any ill will; asking Yuuko and her recent husband Takeshi to act as intermediaries. The two had been the only ones aside from the boy’s family and dance instructor to become close to him, and their easy-going but protective nature had prevented many misunderstandings between the town and the youngest Katsuki.

Yuuri, for all his best intentions, had always felt out of place amongst his peers. There had never been the drive within him to join his fellow young men for shooting or trapping expeditions, and much preferred to spend his time tirelessly repeating new footwork and movements to capture a new dance, rather than linger the hours away watching the comely young ladies of the area pass by with fluttering lashes and swishing skirts. The rare times he had joined an insistent group, before they found him to be a lost cause, he had always spent the time preoccupied in his own head - on the fantasy of melding so far into the music that they ceased to be separate entities.

That was not to say that he never worried about his lack of drive in male duties. It was expected for men to provide for their families, should the time come, and no one in the small country towns paid for classically-trained dancers. Dancers were the follies of the rich, in cities far from his hometown, and few of those people were willing to sponsor a young man in the art. He had no illusions of leaving his family behind to follow a ridiculous dream;, and he knew he would be needed more and more as time passed. His parents were far from retiring from the inn, and his sister was well prepared and suited to take over once they did, but Yuuri felt he would be failing as a son if he did not also contribute. His parents, kind as they were, had never expressed a desire for him to stay at the inn or the town at the cost of his dancing, but nevertheless, Yuuri had always known he would stay bound to the small town of his birth.

Only in his dance, eyes closed, dreaming of the scene, did he allow himself to wander into the land of fantasy. To consider a life well-travelled and well-loved as he discovered the far reaches of the land and its people. Magical nights of music, life, and love, as he joined the graceful movements of a banquet or a dance hall. Lavish gowns and luxurious tailcoats spinning in the measured harmony of an accompaniment. Sometimes venturing into even more indulgent ideas of himself on the stage - a grand audience marvelling at his movements as he became a different person within the story. Joining a dance company, surrounded by others who understood his love for the art form. Perhaps find someone who admired him for the grace of his pirouette rather than the size of game he could shoot and skin. It was always a fantasy and would remain that way, but he basked in those fleeting moments where he had no duties or expectations to the small town and inn. His mind was a traitorous place, though, always making sure to drag him back to reality soon enough.

Still, he spent his days dancing or studying his teacher's steps and routines. Yuuko had once suggested he put on a live performance at the inn, but that idea was quickly dispelled with his certainty in the knowledge that no one would find it interesting or entertaining. Most of the town folk struggled enough with the few foreign guests that passed through to stay at the inn, so the idea of drawing attention to a ballet performance or formal waltz was enough to curl his insides. It may have been a different story if he had been born a fair beauty, but his boyish looks and broad shoulders would never easily be confused with that of a young maiden.

Yuuko had tried again just this week - the spring festivities would be starting soon, as a celebration of the season, and a chance for the young unmatched to find partners. His best friend had tried to convince him that a performance would encourage the love filling the streets of Hasetsu, not only among the people, but for his dancing too, but once again he had rejected her every encouragement. Never one to be dismissed, he anticipated at least another three days of her pleads. He had been deftly trying to avoid her since.

The streets are lined with flowers, and the honeyed glaze of tea cakes drift from the bakery as he makes his way back home after a comforting run-through of basics with Minako. Stomach rumbling, he blushes as a group of girls skip past and overhear. Giggling to themselves, they bounce and wave - they are also Minako’s students - before moving to admire the lines of geraniums and jasmine along the road. Every street, from the main square to hidden pathways between buildings, are lined during the spring season with blossoms of all types. Many flowers gathered locally from the surrounding valleys, others having to be brought in from larger cities.

The most important of these being, of course, roses.

Wild roses were often few and far between, and although there were gardeners who cultivated their own, it was never enough to last the entirety of the festivities. Roses, as the symbol of love and new beginnings, were paramount in the matchmaking rituals of the town, littering every corner in pink, red, white and yellow. Yuuri had never partaken in the rose exchange himself, but it was a tradition that every generation had upheld. Women wearing patterned frocks or bonnets shaped to mimic the flower, men accenting their outfits with the corresponding colours they hoped to receive. Bouquets and boutonnière being exchanged between lovers. To be able to meet the demand each year, Yuuri’s father had always dutifully collected carts full of each colour from the closest city and brought them back. It was a two-day trip, both ways, and Yuuri was needed at the inn now more than ever in his father’s short absence. He was due to return by the afternoon, but Yuuri was still needed to help with the lunch rush of the inn’s restaurant.

Sweeping into the back door, he readies himself for the locals demanding lunch. Grabbing the first tray he sees, his sister Mari smirks and sidesteps out of his way - her own tray laden with food and drinks for patrons.

Yuuri slips into taking people’s orders - many locals getting their usual meals so often Yuuri could recite them - and scribble them down on his collection of order tickets. The people here know him, often ask about him, but it never makes him any less comfortable whenever any of the elderly trappers or fishers smacked his back and encourage him to consider dropping his dance lessons for something more _appropriate_. With the spring festivities coming on, it’s always worse. People insinuating that he’ll never find someone to settle down with without the proper skills. That there was something broken and wrong with Yuuri.

They had never considered whether he _wants_ to find someone to settle down with.

It’s unbearable after the fifteenth time the blacksmith suggests that “once he starts fitting in, he’ll find more than enough suitors, and make his parents proud.” People say the same things to Mari often, concerned, at her peculiar unwed state at her age, but his fearless sister has mastered the art of deflection and good-natured teasing. She tries to help him too, but it’s something Yuuri knows he has to deal with himself - he just hasn’t gotten over the hurt it keeps causing. Every comment builds in his chest like a stab wound, and once the busy rush of people looking for meals ebbs, he’s out the door again. Dancing at Minako’s will let him decompress the tension and forget his heavy thoughts of self-doubt and self-disgust. Vicchan struggles to keep up on his little legs, but his encouraging bark is enough to make him feel a little lighter. Even if the town hated him, and he was unloved for the rest of his life, he would always have had Vicchan’s support. Pink tongue lolls to one side when Yuuri looks down, and he smiles at his dog.

Minako is only slightly surprised at his swift return but says nothing as he warms up on the barre. Years and years have made this routine, and Yuuri barely needs to think to twist his limbs into stretches. His reflection stares back at him from the full-length mirror running the length of the room, and irritation spikes when he sees it. He doesn’t know what the rest of the town sees when he passes, but here, on the dancefloor, Yuuri knows he’s strong and powerful and expressive beyond the shows of masculinity everyone else expects. In turn, with the shift of a hip, he melts into a feminine stance, graceful and commanding in a different sense. Being able to capture these sides of humanity was something Yuuri loved about dance, even if no one else ever understood.

He dances without music, but it’s freer to just let himself move without having to be aware of the beat and measures. He can’t feel Minako’s eyes on him, so she’s likely in the office, leaving him be. Hopes she isn’t spoiling Vicchan again with dried squid. Spins glide into swift footwork as he travels across the floor, and before he realises it, the sun has set, stars out, and his feet are aching. Sweat beads at his hairline and he sinks to the floor in an attempt to start his cooldowns. Stretching himself out again, he finally ends up on his back, eyes tracing the rafters. Vicchan reemerges from the other room, and he sniffs at his face before granting Yuuri a loving lick on his cheek. He’s contemplating sitting up to get ready to return home again, when the doors open and his sister enters, flustered. Her eyes search the otherwise-empty room and land on her brother as he rolls to look back.

“You haven’t seen Dad, have you? He didn’t stop by here this afternoon?” Her voice is urgent, and Yuuri can’t help wonder if his father has slipped out of his evening duties to drink with his friends in honour of another successful trip. Yuuri shakes his head, no, he hadn’t seen their father.

“He didn’t come home. His cart never got back to town, and he’s hours overdue,” Yuuri starting to feel her panic too as she continues. “No one can find him.”

Yuuri doesn’t know if he’s breathing as his mind spirals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I expected this to be a quick, fun, easy thing to write between my longer chaptered fics and planned one-shots - as you can see, that was 6 months ago, and this fic sort of just fell by the wayside.
> 
> That being said! With recent renewed vigor and writing habits, I've gotten back on track with this, and should be posting chapters much more often. The time away has also helped me flesh out this story into something much grander than I was expecting, so I definitely think it will turn out better than it may have when I first started this piece. I hope you enjoy, and feel free to follow my [twitter](https://twitter.com/WritingGee)!
> 
> The title for this chapter came from a line in Disney's song Belle. The comparison is probably obvious.


	3. A Single Rose

The routine retrieval of roses from the city has long been Toshiya’s job.  Hasetsu’s yearly spring festivities were traditionally filled with flowers, including the elusive blooms he was set to travel with.  It had always seemed odd to him that a town so far from the bustling streets of the city would focus their celebrations on a flower so hard to find, rather than the native blossoms of the cherry or plum trees that surrounded Hasetsu, but matchmaking celebrations had always used them.  The familiar inn he stays at during this trip is welcome and warm, as always, if not as grand as his own. Sharing stories with the owner, inn-keeper to inn-keeper, he pays once his group fills themselves on eggs and cured ham.

“Toshiya, my friend,” the owner Ivan calls before he leaves, booming voice matching his burly nature, “be sure to keep vigilant when in the woods.  Travelling groups have been speaking of bandits and wolves.”  Arms crossed in a worry he wouldn’t want to admit.

Whilst travel was always dangerous, Toshiya was eased with the knowledge that none of their cargo was valuable in the general sense.  The trip to the city was far more risky in that regard, with a heavy purse weighing him down for payment of the roses he is now delivering.  Wolves had no need for coin, but he would be cleared from the woods far before sundown.

Thanking his friend for the concern, he goes to collect his carts.  Four trusted horses stand in the stables chewing bailey, and he coaxes them all to be hitched to their respective carts.  Large half-barrel baths filled with water keep his fragile cargo hydrated and fresh over the long journey, and the water sloshes whenever they move too fast.

He rechecks the secures on his loads before moving to lead his fore horse to the road back home.  The three other horses and carts follow him in convoy, horses bridled and attached in a row.  Flicking the reins, he and the horses restart their slow return back to Hasetsu.

Several hours pass in calm.  Toshiya hums tuneless songs and tells the horses stories as they travel - ones they’ve heard before, but they never complain.  Slicing apples to eat.  It’s only once they’re deep along the road through the woods when a problem arrives.  Slowing the carts down to a standstill before dismounting.

A large dead tree has fallen across the road, splintered trunk blocking the way.  For someone travelling on foot, or a single mounted traveller it would be no problem, but there is no way to safely get the carts over or through.  Thick woods surround both sides, trees growing close together, that it would be hopeless to try and go around without the ease of the path.  With no other options, he turns the carts around to go back the way he came, hoping an alternate route opens up, or to get help to clear the way.

He’s not sure whether it’s the fact he’s being more vigilant on the way back, or if the post had been hidden in shadow and shrubbery from the other direction, but a worn signpost marks a fork in the road just twenty minutes back down the road.  There is no sign as to what town can be found down the fork, and the path itself looks to have fallen into disrepair, but it’s clear enough to take the carts down.  Hopefully, the town will still be populated and he can ask for help or an alternate path.  Flicking the reins again, he, four horses, and the carts move slowly down this new path.

Frosty winds curl around him as they make their way, a sudden winter chill lingering in the air.  It’s the middle of spring, but the trees along this path are bare of leaves or buds, the ground sodden in slush and mud.  Toshiya shivers in his thin coat, and the cartwheels groan in the same way they usually do during cold snaps.  The sky overhead darkens as they continue, even though he could swear it should only be just past noon.  Stars twinkle overhead and the low howl of a wolf echoes somewhere in the distance.  He needs to find somewhere to stop, or else he risks losing his horses, cargo and life to the wolves.

Snow starts falling softly - the wind has stopped, but the temperature has dropped even farther.  Turning around on his cart seat, he can see frost dusting across the fine petals of the roses.  The water frozen on top with an icy layer.

It’s freezing, snowing, and Toshiya is making peace that he may not make it back to Hasetsu.  The bizarre turn this trip has taken is getting more dangerous by the moment.  Breath billowing in a white cloud on his exhale, he’s steeling himself to stop for the night when he sees the grand gates before him.  High and covered in the tangle of vines, they seem rusted ajar just enough to walk the carts through - granting access to the dark castle beyond.

Securing the horses in the stables, Toshiya is surprised to find horse feed and ample blankets.  Giving his loyal travelling partners an apple each from his sash bag, he bids them goodnight before turning to the castle.  Windows dark, gardens overgrown, the place looks long-abandoned.  A carved rose insignia decorates the stonework above the heavy wood doors of the entrance, and Toshiya is surprised at how easily they fall open under his push.  The doors don’t creak as they open, but there is no signs of life.  His “hello?” echoes in the grand entrance he finds himself in, cobwebs covering the chandeliers and dust flying into the air as he steps inside.  There are no sounds of anyone else he can hear, but a flickering light draws him closer.

The flickering turns out to be a fire in the hearth - warm and welcoming against the cold outside.  There is no sign of another person in this room either, but the lit fire is proof enough.  Moving his outer light coat to dry by the fireplace, Toshiya turns to see if he can find the other person, but everywhere else on the first floor is empty too.  The kitchen, although unclean with abandonment, has fresh food stocked in the pantry, and so he decides to make a meal.  He may not be able to find his comrade in the empty castle, but if he can feed them a delicious and filling dinner, hopefully it will show he means no harm.

He makes a hearty serving of Katsuki Inn’s signature dish, katsudon, leaving the majority for any others possibly taking shelter with him.  The rice steams in the bowl, topped with fried pork cutlet and a scrambled egg with peas.  He eats his own in near silence, before cleaning his bowl and moving back to the former dining room.  Curling up next to the fire, he falls asleep, never seeing another soul.

The next morning is still cold with snow, but the morning sun is bright even through the boarded windows.  The fire has died down to embers, and Toshiya packs his few things back into his bag  There is still no sign of anyone else in the large castle, but the bowl he’d left out the night before is now empty and abandoned in the sink.  It reminds Toshiya of his kids, back in their childhood when they used to abandon dirty dishes for others to clean.

He thanks the castle for the generosity of its shelter, before going to retrieve his horses.  In the daylight, the world is covered in pure white snow, beautiful and bright.  The overgrown gardens he could only faintly see the night before are roses - fully bloomed with flowers a deep shade of blue.  Never in his life has he seen anything like it, and it’s a mesmerising colour.  It reminds him of Yuuri, unique but beautiful.

The bush is full of them, and he snips just one from the overgrown plant.  The wind shifts as he does, and he hurries back to get the carts moving again before any more snow falls.  Surprisingly, the snow never starts, and following the path further down, the weather warms.  Spring flowers fill along the path and the sound of birdsong returns to the air.

Once he’s closer to Hasetsu, his name is being cried throughout the woods.  Getting closer, someone spies his return, and a call of recognition calls the others to his arrival.  A crowd has formed by the time he reaches the town limits, and he can see relief across most of their faces.  Hiroko rushes to the front and embraces him as he gets off the cart - fussing over him and checking on his health.  The roses are unpacked from the cart, and Toshiya goes back the inn with his family - his odd night an unexplained mystery.

Once at Katsuki Inn, he’s embraced again by both of his children - Mari scolding him without any heat, and Yuuri’s body shaking.  His wife moves to take his bag, whether to empty it or to do his laundry from his days away.  A gasp draws his attention to where she’s looking, the blue rose gently nestled at the top of his clothes, still as beautiful as when he cut it hours before.

“Oh, I found that where I spent the night.  An abandoned castle with a garden filled with them.”  Yuuri, as Toshiya had expected, looks as if he wants to touch the soft petals.  Smiling at his son, he nods for him to go ahead.  “It reminded me of you, Yuuri.  The first rose you receive this year,” winking in encouragement.  Yuuri turns a bright pink in embarrassment but takes the flower gently.

In that moment, everything goes wrong.

The blue petals fall from the stem, blustering around Yuuri’s body in a sudden wind.  Fine magic the colour of stardust sticking to his skin.  A mysterious voice echoing around the room.

_ “Your theft is unforgivable.  To steal from the home that so graciously gave you everything, and yet you take the most precious. _

_ “The curse has fallen to you.  A like for like, your most precious taken from you.” _

And in that moment, Yuuri is gone.  The glisten of silver magic all that is left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AU will have elements of both the Disney film and the traditional fairytale - as well as some good ol' fashion artistic license.
> 
> Next chapter has our beauty and our beast meeting for the first time - look forward to it!!
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/WritingGee)!


	4. A Monster

The first thing Yuuri notices is how  _ cold _ it is. The warmth of the inn had disappeared completely, and even the lingering tingle of magic is fading from his skin. The rose is still in his hand—somehow magically back as it had been, blooming in dark indigoes—blinking up from his hands to peer into the darkness of the room he’s found himself in.

There’s a heavy layer of dust coating everything, but it seems to have once been a grand hall for entertaining parties, guests. Marble floors wide and open enough to fit dozens of dancing pairs, with an imposing staircase swathed in intricate carvings of roses leading to the landing and second floor. There’s little doubt in his mind that Yuuri has found himself in the mysterious castle his father had mentioned just moments before the magic of the rose had spirited him away here, but the dancer has no idea where such a lavish and grandiose castle could be in approximation to Hasetsu.

His mind is spinning. The echoing voice that he had heard before, calling him an ungrateful thief replaying in his thoughts. There are heavy doors sealed tight behind him, and he struggles with opening them to little avail. He’s stuck here, under false pretences, with no idea if he could ever return home. His breathing shakes as he shivers against the bitter cold—so unusual for early spring—and he makes a decision. If he’s been cursed, he’ll have to find a way to break it—perhaps try and find someone he can reason with inside this daunting, quiet castle that there had been a mistake.

He allows himself to be weak for five seconds—body curled against the doors as he leans into them. Vicchan, and Mari, and his parents, and Yuuko and Nishigori, and Minako all flash in his mind as the panicked sadness wells up. The people in his life that he loves the most; the small inn that he had always called home; the safety of the dance studio. Hasetsu hadn’t always understood Yuuri, and Yuuri had not always loved Hasetsu, but the loss of it—of everything—would be too much to bear. The five seconds come to an end in his mental countdown, and he takes a deep breath—rising up, back straight, with the confident walk of a dancer.

There are a half-dozen candlesticks littered around the room, giving it the minimal lighting there is, and he takes one in hand. Taking one more deep breath as he lifts it, Yuuri ventures further into the inky blackness of the castle.

The grand hall moves to a large dining area—table empty but fireplace roaring. There are two dozen chairs lining the long table, but even those are dusty with disuse. Next is the kitchen, a stony room down a twisting set of stairs, far too quiet from what he was used to. There are pots and pans hanging, and a fully-stocked larder, but no sign of kitchen staff at all. A single bowl sits in the sink, abandoned.

“Hm? Another guest?” a voice mutters from behind him, but when Yuuri manages to spin around, the room is still empty.

Convinced the quiet is making him hear things, Yuuri rushes back up the stairs to continue his search.

There’s a sitting room, suitable for after dinner discussion or friendly banter; a library filled with books in all languages—large chairs positioned close to a window, but the curtains drawn; what look like servants quarters, similarly dusty and unused; and a mysterious locked door—the first he had come across. Everything betrays a lifestyle of luxury and excess, but Yuuri is starting to doubt anyone is still here at all.

The last place he has to search on the first floor is far in the back, another stone staircase leading down into the depths of the castle. It’s only when the barred doors of the room he finds glint in the candlelight does Yuuri realise he’s in some sort of dungeon, and a terrifying unease twists in his gut.

He turns around sharply to return the way he had come from, but he’s stopped from moving any further by a shadowy figure just beyond where he can see. A horrific growl sends shivers down Yuuri’s spine, freezing him in place as the shadows of the dungeon move in terrifying ways, and his stomach drops to the floor in fear.

The hulking profile of a beast, form hidden from the low candlelight as it moves to stand at full height, dominates the stairwell. Yuuri can't seem to draw a breath, and he’s utterly, utterly trapped.

“So the thief has found his rightful place, down here in the dungeons,” the monster says; voice deep and threatening as the hairs on the back of Yuuri’s neck stand on end. “I should lock you away to starve for what you have done, stealing from me.”

“Are you the master of this place?” Yuuri manages to say, with barely a shake in his voice; stepping a little closer to see properly. “I come to beseech your mercy, for there has been a grave error.”

“You think me a fool?!” the mysterious monster replies. Stepping into the light of the candle in Yuuri’s hand, the dancer is able to see his captor for the first time. Thick fur the color of starlight runs in a thick coat across his skin, fierce blue eyes glinting in rage. Sharp teeth, like a wolf or bear, bared in threat. Long claws rather than fingers. Standing at full height he towers above Yuuri, but somehow has still found a way to be dressed in soft velvet and tailored wool despite the enormity of his frame. Somehow, that fact makes it a little easier to try again.

Bowing his head in respect, Yuuri continues. His words heavy with etiquette reserved for only the most powerful of customers. “My father meant no disrespect in taking your rose, as he thought it a kind gift for me, his useless son. Your graciousness allowing him to take shelter for the night here undoubtedly saved his life, and I hope I can repay that kindness in his place.” Anything but being locked away until his eventual death would be preferable, and Yuuri hopes that somehow he may be able to see his friends and family again. Find a way to escape.

The monster seems unsure of Yuuri’s words, his growl ceasing as his gaze searches Yuuri’s unwavering form for some sort of trick.

“I-I may be useless in the arts of hunting or swordsmanship,” he continues, “but I grew up in an inn. I can clean and cook for you, to the best of my ability. It seems you have no one to fulfil these duties currently.”

There’s an uncomfortably long period of silence that follows, and Yuuri’s almost sure he’s about to end up dead for his audacity.

“What is your name?” the beast asks, breaking the silence. Yuuri dares raise his head from the bow to look the monster before him in the eyes—icy blue and chilling, calculating.

“Yuuri Katsuki, of Hasetsu.”

“If you will do as you claim, then come, Katsuki.” Turning abruptly to ascend the stairs. Despite his size, it’s graceful, and Yuuri is surprised noticing the beast’s movements as he follows behind him obediently.

“Thank you, I’ll work hard,” he can’t help but say. Trying to reassure himself, or the intimidating monster he finds himself with, Yuuri doesn’t know.

There’s a growl that sounds like a mix between a scoff and a hum, and his captor just looks to him sharply.

“If you don’t, I’ll be sure to reacquaint you with the dungeons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/WritingGee)!


	5. Perculiar Introductions

They emerge from the depths of the dungeons from the stone staircase. The beast walking ahead of him seems less large in the grand space of the great hall, but he’s no less monstrous--his outfit and poise the only thing resembling that of a human.

The long claws of his feet click against the marble floors, and Yuuri is suddenly struck with the realisation that his captor and new master is barefoot. He feels hysterical at the impulse he has to laugh, and bites his bottom lip hard and averts his gaze to fight it.

Thanks to his attempts to distract himself from giggling, Yuuri jumps, off guard, when the other stops abruptly and turns around.

“First, draw the curtains,” a large clawed hand motioning to the heavy fabric hanging above the windows. They look as untouched as the rest of the castle, and a large cloud of dust falls from them when Yuuri touches them hesitantly. Pulling with considerable strength, the first set of curtains open easily, and afternoon sunlight graces the hall for the first time. Thanks to the light, Yuuri can now see the thick cobwebs amongst the chandelier and lights, the uneven layer of dust across the floors--only disturbed in particular spots where Yuuri, his father, and the large monster had walked through. The windows too are dirty, with a blurry frost covering the glass and obscuring the grounds outside, but once all the large windows are exposed the sunlight makes the castle altogether less foreboding.

Even the beast, when exposed to the sunlight of the room, has a more human look in his eyes. The blue colour glitters as he watches each window bring in more light, and he nods once to Yuuri in approval once they’re all open. The thick fur shines like the spun silver in the most expensive embroidered cloth, and it’s clear that he’s perfectly suited to being the master of this grand castle Yuuri’s now in charge of cleaning.

“Come,” is Yuuri’s only warning before he’s expected to follow, the click of claws heading towards the kitchen the dancer had seen previously.

The large kitchen is exactly as he had seen before, with the oven fires extinguished and an empty bowl in the sink. Yuuri knows he’ll be expected to feed the people here--but so far, it looks to be only the two of them here. Having grown up in the inn, meals for two people will be no problem, but his palate is far from refined. If he’s going to be expected to prepare unusual and exotic dishes, he’s not sure his skills will suitable. Still, he has to try for his own safety.

“The pantry will always be stocked,” the castle’s master says. “I will leave the menu up to you, but I do expect satisfying meals.”

“Of course,” Yuuri replies, internally relieved at the freedom from expectation. “Is there anything you would like to have for tonight?”

“The dish your thieving father made,” he says after considering it. “I do not know the name.”

Gulping down the uncertainty, Yuuri takes a guess at what it could be. “I don’t know exactly which dish that could be, but would it be alright if I made my family’s speciality?”

There’s a growl that sounds suspiciously like a petulant grumble, and it looks like Yuuri’s gamble was a bad decision.

“Don’t be unreasonable, old friend,” the third, mysterious voice returns before the beast can snap in anger again, and Yuuri’s eyes widen as he searches for the source.

“Quiet from the furniture,” the beast says, spinning to a collection of unpolished table pieces. Picking up one of the candelabra, he growls at it. Yuuri, before he can second-guess his choice in serving a crazy monster, watches terrified as the gold starts to move as if alive. 

“No no non, this young boy seems to be trying his best,” the candelabra says in Yuuri’s defence. “You need to be more understanding of his situation too, Viktor.”

_ Viktor…? _

“Fine, have it your way.” Putting the ornate speaking candlestick down before turning back to Yuuri, who had watched everything in silence. “Make this family meal if you wish, I expect it to be ready for seven o’clock sharp.”

Glaring once more, blue eyes sharp, he turns and leaves without another word--leaving a dumbstruck Yuuri alone with the reality that inanimate objects can talk, and he wasn’t just going crazy from the stress.

Speaking of--the candelabra’s attention had now moved on to Yuuri; spinning on its foot to reveal a face within the metalwork. Crafted so delicately and organically, it creates no surprise to discover it moving and talking as if alive was a natural process.

“Welcome,  _ mon cher _ ,” it says with a bend of one candle holder towards him. “It’s so nice to have a new face around here.”


End file.
